An Anti-Weaning Advocate

A mother’s breastmilk is a beautiful thing. I don’t mean that in appearance or in taste. No, I am talking about what I once read in some baby book and have since come to see and appreciate firsthand – the transfer of valuable antibodies from the mother’s fully developed immune system.

 

For Micah’s first year of life, he was an amazingly healthy baby – without even a single common cold. However, all that seemed to change once Micah reached that fateful day of weaning. Even as his drinks at the fountain of immunity were being cut down to only one per day, we noticed a problem developing in his digestive track. Every kid eats a little bit of dirt early in life and maybe Micah ate more than his share, but it was clear that something bad had set up residence somewhere within his system. No problem, we would be heading to Addis soon, we could get a stool sample done and knock it out with the right meds. Finding the problem, however, proved more difficult than we expected. The first lab test came back negative for all parasites, but since that hospital only charged us 75 cents for the tests, we figured we got what we paid for. We waited a few days and Micah seemed to only get worse. A second test at the overpriced foreign-based hospital came back with a positive result – amebic dysentery. We were relieved to get a clear diagnosis of a treatable illness. So we bought the medicine and just before mixing up our first dosage for him, got a call from the hospital, “Uh, we’ve made a mistake in looking at Travis’ lab results from last year, Micah’s sample today showed no parasites.” Our hearts sank. Confident that there was indeed a problem we turned to our other medically trained colleagues for advice. Feeding him only dry rice for two days revealed the problem was not food-allergy related. Giving him the first initial doses of a powerful Giardia drug showed improvement and so we continued for 7 days as recommended. However, after the medicine stopped and everything seemed normal a few days, the problem quickly returned. Returning to the drug, we gave a full 10-day dose followed by lots of yogurt to replace the good bacteria, and finally, after about two months of fighting it, Micah’s digestive track was back to normal for good. Whew!

 

We would have been happy to say that it’s been easy sailing since then, but in reality it has been anything but that. About three weeks after the digestive system got back on track, our next challenge hit in the form of a bug bite on Micah’s face. This bug bite became like a pimple when we suspected it to be a mango fly larva, covering it with Vaseline to force the larva to the surface for air. After trying to squeeze the larva out the former bug bite turned pimple grew into a cratered ulcer, which sent us paging through our medical manuals. About a month after this one started we went to Addis and saw a couple different doctors, each time given the same diagnosis and treatment. With no improvement after those topical treatments we had a smear and culture test done, all of which came back negative. Hmmm… The ulcer eventually stopped growing, probably as a result of one of the treatments, but we still don’t have an official diagnosis for what it was. The circular scar (we assume it is a scar) on his face is a testimony to our frustration over those 4 months of looking for answers (our self diagnosis is lieshmiasin, caused by a fungal growth after a sand flea bite, which then got infected).

 

The story doesn’t end there. Less than a month after we came to the conclusion that the remaining spot on Micah’s face was just a scar, we encountered his first bouts with high fevers. After a full day of high fevers unresponsive to ibuprofen or Tylenol, we were just putting him to bed when we had the scare of our lives – seeing our little guy’s eyes roll back and his body shake in the sudden onset of a seizure. Freaking out, we grabbed him, a few belongings, truck keys and bolted out the door. By the time we had piled into the truck and on our way to find an emergency doctor, the seizure had stopped, but seeing Micah in that post-seizure semi-conscious state was equally torturing on us as we fought images of the worst case scenario. After getting a quick fever reducing injection, we waited about an hour, had blood drawn (everything came up negative…again) and were sent home with a diagnosis of tonsillitis on the basis of slightly swollen tonsils. Without any evidence of a sore throat, we were not convinced, but we started the antibiotic anyway and continued to fight the fever for another day and a half before deciding to see another pediatrician. This guy, we think, called it what it was – a virus. We stopped the antibiotic and sure enough later that day, the fever left and stayed away. We breathed a huge sigh of relief and thanked God for many, many things (ie. I had been out of town until only hours before the seizure…THANK GOD on that timing!) Ps. As rash a day or so later helped us identify it as “Rosiola.”

 

Now, if that was the frosting on the cake, we unfortunately are currently dealing with the sprinkles. Last Sunday afternoon, after enjoying two weeks of good health, Micah began to get a fever again. Ok, we’ve crossed that bridge and we aren’t about to mess around with it. Armed and ready with ibuprofen and a cold washcloth, we did everything we knew how to avoid another seizure episode and this time it was working. However, in the middle of the night we faced another, equally serious problem– a restricted airway and loud gasps for breath. Of course, we bounded from bed onto our feet scrambling for some of the home remedies we’ve heard (steam tenting and vapor rub). Monday morning, the wheezing wasn’t going away and so, when I went to an “internet city” for work that day, I surfed all over for more suggestions to try (Vicks on the feet, peppermint oil steam, patting his back, onions, garlic, hot peppers, etc.). None of them were the miracle cure we were looking for. To make matters worse, every year at this time, the Gmz people burn their fields so that when the fires come close to us, the whole sky is filled with black smoke, raining down ash - an absolute nightmare for someone with a respiratory infection. With the fires drawing close yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon, we packed up our co-worker’s truck (ours has two flat tires and only one spare) and headed for the hills (literally). So today (Wednesday) we are hunkered down within the hospitality of a friend living a good 70 miles from Gesas. For the record, the expertises of three mothers with a total of thirteen children are all calling this sickness “croup,” as evidenced by Micah’s loud quacking cough that filled the whole house last night. Thankfully, the cough is loosening and the virus seems to be working its way through his little body so that we hope to get back to Gesas in another day or so. Yikes, only God knows what lies next!

 

All that to say, I could count on my fingers (no toes needed) the number of weeks Micah hasn’t had a concerning medical issue in the 8 months since weaning. It makes me wonder, why did we wean him in the first place? Gmz nurse their babies until they are at least 2, if not 3. And if Andrea’s immune system can keep our little family from having to go through all of these trials and heartaches, I might be in favor of nursing through Jr. High! Ok, I haven’t run that idea by Andrea yet, but when I do, at least I have the evidence to back up my argument.